Raised A Morgenstern
by CoffeeLovingOtaku
Summary: What if Clary was raised by Valentine? What would happen if this Clary was sent on a mission to New York to retrieve the Mortal Cup and attempt to persuade 'the other boy' and her mother to join Valentine? How exactly is she going to do this? ...Sorry, I'm no good at summaries, and I know this has been done many times already, but please give it a chance. Rating may go up.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, there. This is my first TMI fanfiction, so I'm not sure if the characters will be all that in character. I'll try my best to get it right, but I'll need you guys to tell me if I'm doing something wrong or if you have a suggestion for the story x'D**

**Also, Clary is obviously going to be OOC. She was raised by Valentine, and grew up with Jonathan. I think it's kind of obvious she's not going to be all that in character u3u**

**Here's some warnings, by the way:  
_Some swearing._  
_Quite a bit of incest in some parts._  
_It does get kinda dark in some parts, guys x'D  
Some bashing on some characters. Sorry, I suppose..._  
**

**The Mortal Instruments does not belong to me. If it did, Jonathan/Sebastian Morgenstern would not have died. (In fact he would have won the Dark War and gotten Clary as his queen. But let's not talk about that.)**

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Valentine Morgenstern stood outside of the now-burning manor that once belonged to the Fairchilds. The orange-and-red flames hungrily licked up the house, burning and devouring as it's power stretched and grew. He could no longer hear the sound of screaming, so he assumed that Adele Fairchild was now dead. He had struck down Granville after the elderly man had attempted to foil his plans, but Adele had been tied up and forced into the easily-most flammable room in the entire manor.

The house's burning hadn't been all that difficult, and he'd already had everything planned out if the attack on the Clave were to have gone in the opposite direction that he'd wanted it to go. However, he hadn't expected to find out that his wife would have betrayed him. He had seen her with the dirty traitor and Downworlder, who was also his former _parabatai_, Lucian Graymark. Valentine ground his teeth in anger. The Angel-cursed Downworlder had stolen his wife! _His wife_! He would pay dearly for his mistakes.

As Valentine thought about this, there was a quiet, thin wail from the bundle of blankets Valentine carried in his arms, and his black eyes glanced down. The quiet wail had come from a child, a child with curly, red hair and wide, bright green eyes. She'd just woken up from sleeping.

"Shush, Clarissa," Valentine murmured. He'd would've wanted to name the child Seraphina, but Jocelyn had insisted on naming the girl Clarissa. He had respected her wish, and the baby in his arms had been named Clarissa. "We'll be home soon."

Valentine had made sure to make Pangborn take his son away from Maryse Lightwood, and hide him in the cabin in the meadow. He was, if Pangborn had followed through with his orders, already there. However, he wasn't sure that, with all that had gone wrong, if that hadn't gone awry as well. Either way, he had to take Clarissa to the empty manor he had chosen in order to hide her from the Clave.

Without another comforting word to the child in his arms, and only pausing to check his surroundings, Valentine turned around and disappeared from sight, taking away the tiny baby.

Almost as soon as Valentine had disappeared from sight, a loud sound of outrage and pain had sounded from the distance, and anybody who heard it knew that Jocelyn Fairchild had just seen the house of her parents raise up in ashes.

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**...So, what did you guys think? **

**I know it's kind of short, but I promise the rest of my chapter will be longer x'D **

**Please leave a review telling me how I did! Also, if you have any suggestions of any sort, _por favor!_**


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry for not updating quickly, guys x'D I'm a very lazy person that tends to procrastinate. This story is actually one of the few that I continue to edit daily instead of weekly. I'm a slow updater, however, so hopefully you guys don't mind that much ;3;**

**Here's to my Reviewers (answers to questions and tribute and such..I'm new to this, sorry ;u;)**

_**JayJay Morgenstern: I'm totally planning to make a few scenes, since I ship it so much I think it's unhealthy x'D Thanks for the review!**_

_**our-amelia: Valentine was talking about Sebastian/Jonathan in the first chapter. According to Jocelyn, she'd left Jonathan/Sebastian with Maryse when the Uprising had occurred, so I continued from there. Thanks for the review!**_

_**Elizabeth Fayes: Thanks for the review! Hopefully, I think, this chapter is longer than the last one x'3**_

_**Ritza Herondale: Thanks for the review!**_

_**SebbyLoverTMI: I love your username (fellow Sebastian fans unite!)!. That would've been awesome, but, unfortunately, Cassandra didn't agree. Thanks for the review!**_

_**Sunni (guest): Thanks for the review!**_

_**Guest: Jonathan/Sebastian will appear many, many times in this story, so don't worry about that!**_

_**JaneTheWarlock: Thanks for the review!**_

_**Chloecocoxdxdxd: Sorry for the long wait x3x I'm a massive lazy-ass. Hopefully this chapter was worth the wait vuv**_

**The Mortal Instruments does not belong to me. If it did, I would not have allowed Max to die. Poor kid ;u;  
**

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Clarissa Morgenstern's katana easily slashed the stuffed dummy in half. A little bit of stuffing drifted out, and Clary had a fleeting moment of annoyance that there was no blood, like in real kills. She waited for a few moments as the stuffing settled on the clean training room floor, then went to the other dummy, this one filled with dark liquid to mimic blood wrapped in multiple bags of plastic inside of it, and gripped the katana in both of her hands.

Her father had told her that, when dealing with demons or Downworlders, the best way to kill them quickly was to decapitate them. She'd already practiced this skill many times on multiple real-life demons, but once, when her aim had been slightly off, the demon had managed to land a few wounds on her before dieing. Her father had been angry at her, and taught her a lesson. Clary now knew that it was best to practice the strength and force behind the strike, as well as the area of the neck she was to slice, instead of immediately attacking.

Carefully, she stared intently at the dummy, and, with a lightning-fast chop, easily loped of the head. Dark liquid sprayed in a high arc as the head flew off in the direction of the blow, and Clarissa smirked proudly to herself.

Suddenly, she heard the door opening of the training room open. Alarmed, she whirled around, katana gripped tightly in her hands, before spotting the familiar white-blonde hair and dark eyes that belonged to both Clary's father and brother. In this case, it was her father.

Clarissa dipped her head in respect, as Valentine had taught her to do. "Hello, Father."

Valentine Morgenstern was thoughtfully staring at the dummies that Clarissa had sliced apart with the katana. He walked over to them and examined the slice marks, gazing at the torn cloth, plastic, and rubber.

"Your technique has gotten better, Clarissa," Valentine concluded after his examination.

"Thank you, Father," Clary said, feeling a warm flash of pride that her father thought so. He was a hard person to get a compliment from, as she had learned. Valentine would first search thoroughly for any mistakes, even when Clarissa had been younger, and always made sure to give her advice if she had done something wrong.

When her father turned around to face her, she knew that he hadn't come here just to check her training. There must be something else in his mind to make him come to her before dinner.

"Clarissa," he began, and his words were careful. "As you know, the Clave is corrupt and foolish, and the species of Shadowhunters are quickly growing extinct."

Clary had already heard this many times, but knew better than to interrupt her father when he was speaking, so simply nodded. She vaguely wondered where he was going with this; he'd already said this many times, and she knew he wasn't one to repeat himself without reason.

"You already know that we need to Mortal Instruments to, at last, bring justice to this world," as he said this, Valentine's pale blonde eyebrows knitted together, and his dark eyes gazed into hers. Clearly, he wanted an answer.

"Yes, I know Father," Clary said, still somewhat confused as to why he ranting about it again. "But, as you said, the Mortal Instruments are all in protection by the Clave, or lost."

Valentine stood up straighter, and he slowly nodded. Now Clary knew for sure that something was up.

"That may be so," he began, clearly getting to the reason why he was here. "However, the only Instrument that was... lost... was the Mortal Cup. And it was never lost."

"What?" Clary felt somewhat confused. How could something be lost, but at the same time not be lost? It made no sense.

"The Mortal Cup was taken by Jocelyn, your mother, Clarissa," Valentine said, his voice lightening slightly at the mention of Jocelyn, "and I have finally found where she was hiding all these years."

Clarissa felt anger rush through her at the mention of Jocelyn Fairchild, Clary's mother. No, she was not Clary's mother, or the mother of Jonathan, her brother. She was the person who had abandoned her children and left her husband for many years. She had abandoned them, left them to die, when the manor had been burned down by the Clave in retaliation of the Circle's attempt to cleanse the world.

"Yes?" even to her own ears, her voice sounded clipped and bitter. Valentine frowned at her. Clearly, he'd heard her bitterness.

"You must understand, Clarissa, that we need the Mortal Cup," he said. "I can easily gain the Mortal Sword, and I can track down the last Instrument. I, however, cannot hope to get close to Jocelyn enough to take the Mortal Cup."

"So you want me to go to find Jocelyn and take the Cup?" she asked rather tonelessly, knowing that there was something more to her father's mission. He most likely wanted to kill two birds with one stone, and his next words proved it.

"No," his voice was slow. "I also want you to attempt to persuade Jocelyn to join us, to become a family again."

If Clarissa had been angrily bitter before, it was nothing compared to now. How could he even think about that, when the woman had betrayed him and joined up with a dirty Downworlder!? A Downworlder, of all creatures! Her father should be plotting to remove Jocelyn, not trying to get her to join them!

"What!?" she exclaimed. "Father, she abandoned Jonathan and me, and betrayed you! We can't trust her!"

"Clarissa Seraphina Morgenstern," Valentine said in a warning tone. "I know that she did. But she was blinded by the Downworlder werewolf. When she realizes that the Downworlder is worth nothing, and that she has a family, she will return to us."

Clarissa truly doubted that. When she had been younger, she'd asked her brother about their mother. Jonathan had angrily told her that they had no mother, only each other. He'd also said that their mother had hated him, even when he was a baby. This had convinced Clarissa that they had no mother, and she'd calmed Jonathan done when she'd noticed that he'd become agitated. Clary was the only person who could calm down Jonathan when he got angry.

After a few seconds, she sighed in defeat. "I'll go to New York City."

"That is good," Valentine said, and then added, causing Clary to start slightly in surprise and mild horror as she realized that her father had something else in mind, "However, there is something else that I want you to look into."

"And what would that be?" Clary asked, cautiously. If he had wanted her to go and search for her mother, who knew what other thing he had planned now.

"The other boy. The other Jonathan," Valentine said. "I need you to go and find him."

For a few moments, Clary said nothing, just stared at the floor. She felt her father's eyes on her, and knew that he was waiting for her to respond. Clary didn't know what to say. She already knew who the 'other boy' was. He had extra angel blood, like her, but she'd never meet the boy. Her father had resisted from Clary ever meeting him, even when she was a young child. One day, on one of Jonathan's visits, she'd asked him about the other boy. Jonathan had sneered at the other boy, stating that Father couldn't see how weak he was. According to Jonathan, the other boy was too different from them both. When Clary had asked him what he meant, since she had angel blood like him, Jonathan had explained that she was more like him than the other boy. However, even when after Jonathan sneering at the other boy and her father refusing to let her meet him, Clary remained curious about the boy until they were around twelve years old, and the other boy was taken to be raised by the Lightwoods. Jonathan had said it was because he was too weak and hadn't been good enough to be trained by their father. Clary wondered if the other boy had been lucky to be raised in love.

"The one who you sent to live with the Lightwoods?" Clary asked, keeping her voice as flat and uncaring, unlike the furious tone she'd used when conversing about her mother. "What about him?"

"I want you to attempt to persuade him to join us, as well. He has extra angel blood, like you, Clary," Valentine said. "He must join us."

Clary felt a strong urge to sigh again. She wondered what Jonathan would say about their father's orders. He would be angry, for sure; it seemed that Jonathan hated the other boy. He'd never explained why, but Clary could guess. She suddenly realized something.

"What about Jonathan? Will he come with me to New York City?" Clary hadn't seen Jonathan for two weeks, since her father insisted on them being raised in separate homes, but he usually was allowed to visit if he did his training.

"No," Valentine said flatly. "He cannot."

"Why not?" Clary asked, feeling a whiny tone creep into her voice. "He can help me."

"Jocelyn will not trust him," Valentine said this as though it was natural, as though there was a perfectly good reason for it. "She deems him a monster. However, she will trust you."

"What makes you think that?" Clary muttered grumpily. "Maybe she will trust him and not me. After all, he is older than me; she must've known him better."

Valentine sighed. "Clarissa, Jonathan has demon blood. You know that."

"So?" Clary said stubbornly. She knew she should stop arguing with her father - it would bring trouble - but she couldn't help it.

"Clarissa," Valentine's voice was suddenly annoyed, and Clary guessed he was now growing angry. "You know that he is different from all other Shadowhunters, but Jocelyn thought that that was a bad thing. When she returns, she will see it is not. But only if she returns. Now, Clarissa, you must go and make sure that that happens."

Suddenly, Clary knew that her father had won. There was nothing else she could say without causing more anger, and possibly another punishment. She lowered her head and nodded. As soon as she did this, she could almost hear her father relax, and he chuckled quickly after a few minutes.

"Come on, Clarissa," Valentine's voice said. "You cannot do everything with your brother. You rarely do so anyway."

"If he could just move into this manor-" began Clary hopefully, looking up, but Valentine immediately shook his head.

"That cannot be done," he said. "You know why."

"Yes," Clary muttered. "because, if the Clave were to discover us, they would raid one house, especially this one. If they raid the house, we will portal to the cabin and be safe. That is what you said, correct?"

"Yes," Valentine sounded pleased. "Now, go to your room and get ready. You leave for New York in the morning, and your brother is here."

"Jonathan is here?" Clary's head snapped up so quickly that she felt her neck crack. "Where?"

"I believe he is wandering around the house," Valentine frowned as he said this, clearly disapproving of his son wandering around the house without surveillance. "He is most likely searching for you."

As soon as he'd finished speaking, Clary had already rushed to place her katana in it's place, and was already in front of the door. Despite her rush, her face was not flushed from the physical exertion.

"Okay, Father! I'll go pack up!" she said as an excuse, before bolting out of the door. She heard her father's chuckle behind her.

Clary was excited to see her brother, but knew that, once he heard about their father's mission for her, would most likely become upset. Despite them being raised in separate places, they knew each other very well. Jonathan told Clary everything, and Clary told Jonathan everything. They knew more about each other than their father knew about them.

As she hurried up the stairs towards the bedrooms (her bedroom and many, many extra bedrooms that sometimes included Valentine's Circle), she wondered where her brother was. She hadn't seen him when she'd rushed out of the training room to get to her room. The training room was downstairs, and to make it to the bedrooms you had to cross the living room and kitchen. She hadn't seen Jonathan on the way up. Maybe he was in one of the extra rooms?

While Clary was pondering on where her brother was, she almost crashed into said person when she began walking along the hallway. She hit his chest (he was much taller than she) and doubled back, somewhat dazed.

"Jonathan?" Clary felt a rush of delight at the sight of her brother. His black eyes were gleaming, she noted, and he had a smirk on his face. His hands went around her and held her to his body, and Clary wrapped her arms around him. They hadn't seen each other for two weeks.

"I would've thought you would pay more attention to where you're walking," he said, sounding amused. "Weren't you the most careful of both of us?"

"Sorry," she apologized, still gleeful because her brother was with her. "I have a lot on my mind right now. Especially because of father's mission-"

"Father's what?" Jonathan echoed, sounding surprised, which in turn surprised Clary. There were very few things that her father didn't tell Jonathan, and this was apparently one of them.

"Father's mission," Clary decided to explain. After all, it was her mission. "He's sending me to New York. He wants me to find the Mortal Cup and take it back."

"What?" Jonathan's voice was, at first, confused, and then, outraged, and his grip on her tightened in a possessive sort of way. "He can't send you to New York!"

"Well," she said, attempting to shrug with her brother's grip on her. "He can. All he has to do is tell me to make a Portal, and then I'll-"

"You know what I mean," he interrupted, shaking his head. He had stopped holding her, but his hand was still wrapped around her wrist. Clary didn't mind.

"Yeah, I know," Clary's voice was soft. "I tried asking him if you could come with me, but he didn't allow you."

"Why not?" Jonathan mutter-whined, sounding more like his younger version than usual. "Both of us have a greater chance of getting the Mortal Cup."

"That's true, but, wellll," she passed her free hand through her curly red hair, "he also wants me to attempt to convince Jocelyn and the other boy to join us."

Jonathan froze, and Clary looked intently at his face. She knew that it took very little to set him off, but the fury welling up in his black eyes was distinctly different from his usual anger. She knew because she'd seen him angry at the other boy, at Jocelyn, at their father, and sometimes at anybody who would wrong Clary.

"Why does he want you to go get them to join us?" Jonathan's voice was quiet and calm, but there was a dark undertone to it. Whenever he got like this, it reminded Clary of his demon blood. She didn't care about it, really, but she knew that it could make him dangerous at times. He'd never harmed her, though.

"I don't know," Clary admitted. "I think he wants us to become a family again. Not like that's possible!" She said the last part scornfully, truly doubting that either Clary or

Jonathan would accept Jocelyn back into their lives without a struggle. Plus, neither of them knew the other boy very well, and father spoke of him with such affection that the siblings became agitated.

Jonathan's mind seemed to be along the same lines as Clary's, because he growled softly. "I need to go speak with Father."

"Okay," Clary hoped that, if Jonathan spoke to their father, that Valentine would allow them both to go to New York. "I'll see you later."

"See you," he said, and began to walk away towards their father's study. Clary watched him go thoughtfully, and he suddenly paused, and threw a smirk over his shoulder. "Don't miss me too much while I'm away."

Clary rolled her eyes at him, and stuck out her tongue childishly. He laughed and walked down the stairs, and Clary turned around and continued on her way to her room. Slowly, her blood, which had been warm when she'd been with Jonathan, chilled at the thought of going to New York. Alone.

When she found the door to her room, she quickly twisted the knob and, once inside, searched for her sketchbook. Once she had it, she sat down on her bed, a pencil twirling in her hand, and glanced outside through her window. The light was already dark; clearly, she'd spent more time in the training room than she'd originally thought. It had been mid-afternoon when she'd gone in, and now was clearly dark.

She winced at the thought of going to New York once more, before beginning her sketch. She wasn't really thinking about what she was drawing; her hand darted to and fro, sketching pale lines that were quickly darkened. When Clary looked down at the sheet of paper that she'd drawn on, there was a picture of herself, Jonathan, and Valentine. They had black angel wings dripping ink-blood, and Clary smiled thoughtfully to herself, setting down the sketchbook. She usually drew morbid things; this drawing was nothing compared to her other ones.

Since Valentine was planning to send her to New York in the morning, she decided to tuck into bed earlier than usual. With the hope that Jonathan would convince their father to allow him to go to New York, she drifts off the sleep.

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**...What d'you think? Was it better than the last chapter?**

**I also think the length is good, compared to what I usually write ;3;  
**

**Please leave a review; tell me how I'm doing and any suggestions for what happens next! I read all my reviews, and I'll try to respond :3**


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